


Scandal

by RedeemingBaddies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Top Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedeemingBaddies/pseuds/RedeemingBaddies
Summary: Harry sticks by a recovering Snape‘s reluctant side. The Daily Prophet finds out.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 9
Kudos: 430
Collections: Snape Bigbang 2019





	Scandal

**Author's Note:**

> For Snapebang19

No matter how much time passed, in the early morning hours Harry saw Hedwig. Before he was fully awake and had his glasses on it was always her perched with his mail at the foot of the bed, cooing for a treat, clicking her beak. Harry groggily reached for his glasses and missed the nightstand all together. He wasn’t used to sleeping in Grimmauld Place yet.

Click, click, click.

“I’m bloody well trying, girl,” Harry rasped, knocking his glasses to the floor. “Shite.” He managed to get ahold of the evasive spectacles and set them askew on his face. The illusion of Hedwig vanished as a crisp image of a barn owl came into view.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!

“Alright, here!” Harry yelled tossing a treat from the nightstand. The owl caught it midair and took off out the window, probably on a delivery schedule. 

Harry rested against the headboard and stretched. “Ah,” Harry sighed, still feeling a dull ache in his bum. The memory of the prior night came to the forefront of his mind and played in perfect clarity.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You’re awake!” Harry said rushing into Snape’s room, not bothering to ask permission to enter. Why would he? He had visited everyday since the end of the war. This room was more familiar than Grimmauld Place. 

“The hell?” Snape asked in barely a murmur. “You’re alive?”

“Of course he’s alive, Snape! If you could survive don’t you think our Harry would!” Madam Pomfrey bounced into the room levitating a tray of potions.

Snape rattled a sigh. “Until an hour ago I thought I was dead.” He narrowed his eyes at the tray. Harry followed Snape’s gaze as the sunken black eyes examined the bottles. 

“You’ve only been awake an hour?” Harry asked, watching as Madam Pomfrey casted a vitals charm over Snape.

Snape’s eyes slowly rolled to Harry’s and the memory of their moment in the Shrieking Shack came back. It was the last time they had looked each other in the eye. Snape said nothing as Madam Pomfrey began uncorking bottles. 

“Open wide, Professor. You best drink it all,” she said tilting the first phial to Snape’s dry, cracked lips. “That’s it!” She added as he finished the first one. 

Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey finished administering the potions. He had thought endlessly about what he wanted to say to Snape, how he wanted to thank him, but now that the man was awake Harry found himself struggling to remember the many rehearsed lines he’d daydreamed about.

“I’ll leave our two heros of the world alone!” Madam Pomfrey said with a smile, guiding the tray out.

“When can I—“ Snape began to hack mid way through. 

“Aguamenti,” Harry casted into a nearby empty glass before holding it out to Snape. Those dark eyes found Harry’s again as the glass lingered between them. Slowly Snape lifted his hand and took the offered water, gulping it. 

Madam Pomfrey had paused at the door, waiting for Snape to finish his request. Snape rested the now mostly empty glass at his waist.

“When can I leave?” He asked, voice slightly less crackly than before. 

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes narrowed. “Now, Snape, you just woke up from a 3 month coma—

“Three months!” Snape yelled before hacking again. He quickly downed the rest of his water and Harry filled the glass back up. 

“Yes, Snape. You were dead by muggle standards when they found you,” Madam Pomfrey explained. 

“Why didn’t you just leave me there to die?!” Snape said finally staving off the cough. 

“Because you’re a hero,” Harry interjected.

“And I’m going to leave you two hero’s alone. I have other patients,” Madam Pomfrey said, shutting the door.

Harry turned to Snape whose eyes were pinned to the door, as if willing the Medi-witch to come back in to break the tension. Or was it Harry wishing for that? 

Harry cleared his throat. “Uh, Professor—

“I don’t want to talk to you, Potter.” Snape sipped his Potter provided water. 

Harry nodded in understanding but took a seat next to the bed anyway. “You, uh, don’t have to talk.”

“Nor do I have to listen. Leave,” Snape snapped, his black eyes gaining a bit of their glitter back. 

Harry sighed, “Professor, don’t you want to know what’s been going on the last few months?” 

“Not from you.”

“You’ve won every medal possible, including the Order of Merlin First Class,” Harry launched despite the negativity. The git was a hero and Harry was going to make sure he knew it. 

“Great, now that they know I’m awake they’ll reverse their decision,” Snape said sloshing down more water.

“Shaklebolt wouldn’t do that.” Harry grimaced watching Snape sloppily finish his second glass. “Aguamenti,” Harry casted again. 

Snape immediately dumped the new water on the floor.

“Hey!” Harry said moving his feet from the puddle. 

“Where is my wand? Your water tastes like piss,” Snape said with a slight twist of his lips. 

_Great, he’s back._ Harry thought. “Shaklebolt would never revoke your awards, sir,” Harry said again. 

“My wand, Potter.” Snape continued to ensure they were having entirely different conversations. Harry gritted his teeth. 

“Lots of people died, some of them you knew.”

“Lucky them.”

Harry shot up, tipping the chair to the floor. “Why are you like this?! I know you’re good! I know you’re a good man! You showed me!” Harry yelled. How could the man in the memories and the man before him be the same? 

“There’s a difference between doing good deeds and being a good man, Potter. One can be bad and do good,” Snape said, eyes sweeping the room, looking for his wand, no doubt. 

“You loved her! You loved my mother!” Harry whisper-yelled remembering the loving doe who led him to the sword of Gryffindor. 

Snape’s face pinched and a red flush of anger spread to his hairline. “Why didn’t you leave me to die?!” 

“Because you’re my hero!” Harry’s voice strained through a sob.  
He couldn’t stop the warm tears that slid down his face. He couldn’t stop the image of Snape crying while holding his lifeless mother. He couldn’t forget about all the times Snape had saved him. He couldn’t remember how to stop crying.

The answer deflated Snape. The redness receded and Snape’s signature scowl shifted to one of confusion. A look Harry had never seen on him before. Harry searched his own memories to see if Snape had ever seen him cry, but it didn’t seem he had. How embarrassing. 

“You’re a hero to the wizarding world, but you’re MY hero more than anything to me,” Harry said trying to hold back tears. He was sure his face was a mess to look at as Snape crossed his arms and looked away tersely. 

“My wand, Potter. Do you know where it is?” Snape asked the wall. 

Harry wiped his face with his sleeve. “It was found broken,” Harry explained, his voice still quivering. 

“Broken?!” Snape snapped his gaze back to Harry. “How? It’s not like I was in a heated duel.” Snape appeared to be ignoring Harry’s emotional confession, which Harry was grateful for. It allowed him to collect himself. 

“It was found by a Gryffindor. We suspect he broke it before turning it in,” Harry continued. 

“Of course,” Snape said, his gaze drifting to the water on the floor. Though Snape didn’t ask for it, Harry spelled the mess away. It would be there until Madam Pomfrey came back if Harry waited for Snape to ask. 

“It was a right dirty thing for him to do, but people still didn’t know the truth at the time,” Harry said not mentioning the water. 

“I suppose you won’t tell me who broke it?” Snape asked with a small smirk, clearly having noticed the water was gone. 

“Does it matter?”

Snape’s eyes found Harry’s again. A silence stretched between them. Harry wondered if he should take his leave and come back another day, when Snape was more recovered. 

“Neville Longbottom, was it? I suppose I can’t really blame him.” Snape smirked as he leaned against the headboard.

Harry shook his head a bit. _That git!_ “You used legilimency on me!” 

“And you were as open to it as ever.” Snape uncrossed his arms to demonstrate the openness. 

Harry huffed. “Fine! Act like a git for now! I know it’s a cover!” He turned to leave. “And I’ll see you tomorrow!” He yelled over his shoulder before slamming the door. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Where’s Snape?” Harry asked Madam Pomfrey when he found Snape’s room devoid of a scowling bastard. 

“Oh, you know him!” She answered with her hands on her hips. “You can’t keep him where he doesn’t want to be!” 

_I’d argue that Dumbledore kept him where he didn’t want to be all the time._ Harry thought. 

“Said he couldn’t be without a wand and jumped right up and left a while ago.” She gestured to the exit door. “Was lucky to keep him here overnight, really.” 

“Thanks!” Harry nodded before bounding out the door. _That git can’t disappear on me!_ The second he was outside he apparated to Ollivander’s shop, landing off center, he stumbled his way through the door. 

“Oh, Mister Potter, welcome!” Ollivander greeted from behind the counter. Thankfully, on the other side stood Snape, who Harry could swear rolled his eyes.  
“In need of a wand or repair?” Ollivander asked before shelving some wands that had been in front of Snape. 

“No, sir, actually here to see the Professor,” Harry said smiling at the cantankerous looking Snape.

“Professor! Are you going back to teaching, Severus?” Ollivander asked pulling out more wands for Snape to test. 

“No. ‘Professor’ is a title I wish to drop,” Snape said picking up the first wand and weighing it in his hand. Harry felt like Snape was deliberately trying not to acknowledge him. 

“Going to work as a potioneer, then?” Harry quipped with a showman’s smile. He slid right next to Snape who seemed to focus harder on the wand bouncing in his grip. Harry tossed a glance back to Ollivander, who was engrossed in watching Snape. Harry doubted the potions master, no matter how irritated, would make a scene in front of an audience. At least, not outside of a classroom. 

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. Harry knew it was in annoyance, but Ollivander thought it was because of the wand. “Of course, this isn’t right for you!” He said shelving it. Before Snape could grab the next one Ollivander stopped him. “Wait! I just got done with a wand yesterday!” Ollivander side eyed Harry. “It’s a special wand.”

Harry had no idea why Ollivander looked at him when he was selling a wand to Snape, but the wandsmith was back before Harry could speculate further. 

“Here we are, Severus! Try this one,” he said, sliding the top off the case. Snape’s hand hovered over the black wand and hesitated. Harry looked at Snape to see why. Snape’s eyes were cut straight to Harry. 

_He must’ve seen Ollivander look at me._ Harry thought while maintaining his grin. 

Snape took a breath and looked back at the wand before finally picking it up. The wand lit up with a warm, fiery hue and even emitted a low hum. 

“Ha! I knew it!” Ollivander said placing a lid on the empty box and ringing up the wand before Snape could even say if he wanted it. 

“What’s special about it?” Harry asked curiously. 

“Ah! It’s a triplet!” Ollivander explained. “The phoenix who gave the feather at the core is the same who gave yours...and, uh, You-Know-Who’s.” 

“What!? Fawkes?” Harry slammed his hands on the counter a might harder than he wanted. “But he went away when Dumbledore died!” 

Ollivander nodded. “But he came back after the war!” He said with a dramatic gesture. “Dropped off this one feather…” Another gesture equally dramatic as the first, “...and left again,” he whispered while fluttering his fingers...dramatically. 

Snape left money on the counter. “Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. Good day,” he said, not acknowledging the jaw dropping information. Instead, he quickly turned to leave with his new wand. His dark cape billowing out to smack Harry, who followed, in the face. 

“Leave me alone, Potter,” Snape said briskly walking. “If I had my strength I’d apparate.”

“I know where you live. Found out while you were out,” Harry said. “Besides, birds of a feather flock together,” Harry said holding up his wand and gesturing to Snape’s newly acquired one. 

“Oh, really,” Snape said rhetorically. “If that’s true then I suppose we should be dead like the Dark Lord—

“Voldemort.”

“And in hell,” Snape whispered the last bit as he stopped at a food stand. 

“You can say his name, you know. Everyone does now.” Harry picked up an apple and gave a few knuts to the vendor. 

“I’m not everyone.” The line at Snape’s brow deepened as he gathered up a burlap bag, stuffing it with various foods. 

“No, I suppose you’re not,” Harry said taking a bite. His plan wasn’t going well. Snape was being an immovable force. Though, he was at least responding instead of giving Harry the cold shoulder. 

“Oh my goodness! It’s both of them!” Harry heard the familiar sound of adoring fans. He had a hard time walking down the street without having to stop for pictures or autographs. Most people left him alone and usually opted to observe from afar, but there were some who wanted to commemorate the moment, and Harry had no problems obliging. 

“Oh, Professor Snape! Good to see you’re out and well!” One girl said slipping a piece of parchment from her robe pockets. “Will you be teaching potions this year? I can’t wait to take my O.W.L!” 

Snape had a look that could only be described as ‘antagonizing panic’. The girl didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Could we have both your autographs, please!” She said jutting out the parchment. The girl standing behind her, who was clearly shy, handed out a quill.

“Of course!” Harry said with a smile and scribbled his name on the parchment before passing it to Snape who appeared befuddled. Snape took the quill and held it to the parchment, but didn’t write. He gave one curt shake of his head, as if snapping himself back into the moment. 

“Ms...Rosendale, Ravenclaw,” Snape said, his face morphing into that professor persona Harry knew so well. 

“Oh! You remember me, sir! Yes!” She said with a light blush touching her face. The girl behind was burning red. 

“You should have several parchments with my handwriting all over it and progress reports with my signature. Did you not keep any of them?” Snape asked with a hint of malice.

_Oh, boy._ Harry thought, but didn’t interject. This girl went to school with Harry for four years. She knew who Snape was. 

Both girls were now flaming. “Uh, no...sir,” the Rosendale girl nearly whimpered. 

Harry thought about saving them, but to his surprise Snape quickly jotted across the parchment.

“Try not to throw this one away,” he said handing it back. The girls’ demeanors bounced back to giddy delight as they squealed their thanks and ran off. Harry looked up to Snape and smiled.

“A good man,” Harry said crunching another bite out of his apple. 

Snape paid the vendor and through a sickle in the tip jar. “What was their fuss all about?” He asked, tossing the sack over his shoulder. 

“Severus Snape, our new celebrity.” Harry playfully mocked. 

Snape scowled, “Why?” he asked, trekking up to the floo network. 

“Why not? You helped save the world, didn’t you?” Harry tossed his apple core down as Snape stepped into the floo. 

“I WAS going to ask you not to follow me, but as I’ve been seen out and about, I do not trust my home to not be _infested_ with those _bundimun_ who call themselves _‘journalists’_ ,” Snape said, his glower deepening.

“Oh, going to ask me to escort you?” Harry asked with a smile. It was about time the man warmed up to him. 

“Distract them! My fireplace isn’t connected to the network. I have to floo to the public network then walk,” Snape bit out frustratedly. 

“Distract them how? You are going to be the hot new story. I’m old news by now,” Harry said. _It’s about time someone else had to do as many interviews as I’ve had._

Snape looked around rather slyly. “I could curse you, take you with me, then drop you. I’m sure they would be far more interested in your prone, unmoving body, than in me.”

Harry nodded. “Alright then, do it,” he said holding out his arms, _calling the bluff._ Snape’s expression was truly priceless. “See, since I know you’re a good man your threats are more funny than, well, threatening.” 

Snape’s face twisted as he jutted out his new wand towards Harry, who made no move to lift his own. Harry waited. So did Snape. 

“Merlin be damned, boy!” Snape cursed swiftly pocketing his wand at the sound of approaching voices. Harry triumphantly smiled. 

“I’ll do what I can, Professor.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Snape said before flooing to Cokeworth

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You didn’t distract them from me at all!” Snape yelled slamming the front door as Harry scuttled in. 

“How was I supposed to know you have an anti-apparition ward on your whole bloody property!?” Harry yelled defensively. 

“It’s illegal! Why would I tell anyone?” Snape retorted. “What was your grand plan? Apparate and leave me to deal with those—,” Snape gestured wildly to the door, _“boggarts!”_

“You said you didn’t have the strength to apparate earlier! I thought that’s why you weren’t apparating to your home!” Harry argued. “If you were paying attention you would’ve noticed I grabbed you to apparate!”

“A lot of good that did!”

“Who makes an anti-apparition ward that burns your feet before tossing you back to where you started!” Harry lifted his shoe to show his melted soles. 

“Did you or did you not read my textbook!?” 

Harry paused. He wanted to keep yelling as the pump of adrenaline hadn’t left him yet. “Yeah...I did,” he said pushing his instinct to fly off the broomstick down. “And he would make a ward like that, would he?” 

“Yes, _I_ would,” Snape answered with emphasis. 

Harry’s eyes locked onto inky, black ones, but quickly averted his gaze. No need in Snape figuring out how he felt about the Half-Blood Prince. Snape would, surely, get his desire to drop dead if he knew Harry’s first gay crush was, indeed, the afformentioned Prince. 

Harry distracted himself by looking at the front door. “Why aren’t they knocking? They were on our heels!” Harry said moving to peek out a nearby window. 

Harry heard Snape sigh heavily. “Did you or did you not read my textbook, Potter?” It sounded rhetorical, but Harry answered anyway.

“Yes, sir, and I suppose that’s why there’s no one out there?” Harry asked scanning the front lawn, which was pleasantly devoid of journalists. 

“They’re still there. Anyone with a press badge can not set foot on my property,” Snape said with a bit of old snark. “They, however, can still see you with the proper cameras.” Snape pulled the curtain Harry was peeking through closed. 

Harry raised a brow. “Why did you make it like that? I know you could make it so they can’t see inside.” 

“Yes, but I already have illegal jinxes and hexes on the property. This is a muggle domain and I don’t need to draw anymore attention,” Snape explained walking into what looked like a kitchen and setting his sack of groceries down. “And since this is muggle land they…” He gestured towards a window in the kitchen, “...can’t stay for long without drawing suspicion,” He said turning back to Harry. 

Across the room, Harry found himself locking eyes with Snape again. The man was bloody brilliant and listening to him talk was becoming a mite addictive. The curiosity of _‘what if’_ drove his adrenaline filled gaze forward. The Prince, or Snape, was, indeed, terribly mysterious and his body was deciding the _third ‘f’ word_ would be sufficient if he couldn’t ‘fight or flight’. 

Snape tilted his head and Harry remained unblinking. A line formed at Snape’s brow. 

“What do you want me to see?” Snape asked, his previous anger replaced with his own curiosity. 

_He figured out I’m baiting him._ “Why don’t you take a look?” Harry asked, surprised at his own brazen voice. Mere moments ago he was making an effort to not make eye contact and now he was placing a welcome mat at his lashes. Of course, a brilliant man like Snape would notice! 

Snape squinted but Harry felt no push into his mind, so Harry tried to push first. Trying to conjure up the little he learned about Legilimency he channeled his magic to a point and tried to push it through Snape’s gaze. 

“That won’t do and you know it. You’re trying to get me to do it back. Why?” Snape asked leaning back against the counter. Harry noticed there was a god damn microwave. Did Snape ever use it? Why was being curious such a _turn on?_

Harry suddenly wanted to know everything. Like when he wanted to know more about the Prince. He got a taste of it when Snape offered his memories in the shack. But that taste only left Harry wanting more. He tried to convince himself, during the months Snape was in a coma, that what he wanted with the man was platonic. Not now, though. Not with that one, specific _ache._

“You’re a good man,” Harry whispered aloud, letting his unread thoughts seep out. 

Snape’s curious expression intensified as his eyes wandered over Harry, no doubt looking for nonverbal queues. Harry was sure he would find them all, but there was one in particular that was hard to miss, and Harry saw in Snape’s widened eyes that he had noticed. 

“Boy,” Snape’s voice was low, almost surreal. “To be young and...ready at the most inappropriate of times.” Snape leaned even further back, as if trying to retreat from Harry, but his expression still read ‘curiosity’, not disgust. Harry pushed on. 

“It wouldn’t take much to make it appropriate,” he said. Snape closed his eyes for a second. Then gave that one curt nod Harry now knew meant he was trying to bring himself back to the moment. _Where did he go for that brief second?_

Snape opened his eyes. “That’s a crazy thing to say, Potter,” he said, but Harry noticed he wasn’t being asked to leave. 

“Our whole lives have been crazy,” Harry retorted, taking a small step towards the kitchen. “This feels crazy in a good way, though.” Another step. 

One corner of Snape’s lips curled. “Anything to do with...that,” Snape’s eyes dropped to the front of Harry’s tightening pants, “is going to feel good.”

Harry was a few feet away from Snape now. “I intend to find out first hand,” Harry said confidently, as if he had taken Felix Felicis, and that confidence only grew with each moment he wasn’t rejected. “Perhaps by your hand?” He whispered. 

Said hand shot out to grab Harry by the upper arm. It happened so quickly Harry was sure magic was involved, but he found himself pinned to a refrigerator and by a dark, _warm_ gaze. 

“Boy! This isn’t a game!” Even when yelling Snape’s voice sounded controlled. 

“Good, I’ve only played Quidditch. I’d be shite at any other game,” Harry rasped, relaxing flush against the chill at his back. 

Snape’s eyes focused on Harry’s and, finally, he felt a push of magic. Harry threw the door open and invited Snape in. He showed Snape how he wanked to the thought of the Prince in school. Showed how he visited the hospital everyday, praying for Snape to awaken. He showed his fear of rejection. _It’s not me he wants,_ a dark part of Harry’s mind echoed. 

“How would you know what I want, boy?” Snape snapped, pressing Harry harder against the refrigerator. The weight made Harry gasp. Madam Pomfrey must’ve made sure Snape never missed a meal. 

“I don’t.” Harry replied, “Show me what you want.” 

Snape’s magic retreated but his mouth advanced. Harry felt euphoric as Snape pressed wet, fevered kisses to his mouth. Harry tried to keep up, but Snape was moving fast, as if he was in a hurry. 

Harry cradled the sides of Snape’s face and pushed him back slightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, pulling Snape’s face back to his, but the older man hesitated. 

“That didn’t work,” Snape said, his eyes reverting back to their calculated glare. Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock. _What is he on about?_

“It was working fine!” He said pulling Snape’s hand down to his crotch. “See! I’m raging!” Harry was sure he was about to tear through his pants at this rate. 

“Usually Imperius’ control would lessen if something the victim truly hated was happening,” Snape said pulling back, but still keeping Harry in his arms. 

“Imperius! You think I’m cursed!” Harry gaped in disbelief, his euphoria taking a nosedive while his erection continued to strain. Ah, to be a teenager. 

“With false memories implanted,” Snape continued. 

“You! You, git!” Harry grabbed Snape’s elbows to ensure the man didn’t pull away any further. “I’m not cursed and you can’t leave me like this!” He said looking down at the wet spot forming on his pants. 

Snape’s eyes shifted downwards for a moment before darting to the side. “Who would want you to do this?” Snape postulated, clearly not wanting to believe Harry’s arousal. 

“Me! I want to do this!” Harry answered. “I can fight the Imperius curse! I would know if someone tried,” Harry explained hoping to get the mood back before it was completely ruined. 

Snape sighed, drawing his gaze back up to Harry’s. Though, this time he didn’t use legilimency. “I’m going to chalk this up as morbid curiosity,” Snape said pulling Harry to him, “for the both of us.” 

_Thank you to every deity!_ Harry thought as Snape began kissing him again, slower and more relaxed. Harry wrapped his arms around Snape’s neck, pulling himself up into the kiss, deepening it. 

Snape careened towards the table and pushed Harry atop it, breaking their contact for a moment. Harry sat obediently. Lifting his legs around Snape’s waist he pulled the other man close. He didn’t want Snape out of his embrace for long, fearing he may change his mind. Snape seemed to have left that thought behind, though, as he allowed himself to be drawn in. 

“You best not knock my groceries off the table, boy,” Snape said placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushing him down. Harry could barely think, much less be aware of his surroundings. 

“Yes, sir,” he answered anyway. He wasn’t about to jeopardize what was happening. 

Snape laid down over Harry, pinning him with his weight. A humid breath rolled over Harry’s heated ear. “Good boy,” Snape whispered. Those words shot a current straight to his groin. His hips bucked up to grind against Snape’s, which were pressing him further up the wooden surface. 

Once Snape joined Harry fully on the table they locked lips again. Harry opened his mouth to Snape’s usually sharp, dangerous tongue. That tongue, with either criticism or spell, could admonish him to ribbons. Harry knew there must’ve been something wrong with him as the thought of Snape verbally punishing him caused his dick to pulse painfully. 

Snape’s tongue was unusually blunt at the moment, though. Softly pressing against Harry’s. Slowly exploring his mouth. After a few moments Snape pulled up and caught Harry’s eye.

_Oh, God, I hope my breath doesn’t taste bad._ Harry thought.

Snape smiled in a way Harry had never seen. “You taste like apples,” he said. It took Harry a moment to realize what had happened. 

“I didn’t even feel you trying to get in,” Harry said, slightly embarrassed he didn’t notice he was being legilimensed. 

“You’re about to,” Snape said brandishing his wand. Harry caught the joke and was about to respond when he felt his clothes fade away. It was sweet relief for his aching member, now laying hard across his belly. Snape’s clothes remained on. 

“I want to see you,” Harry said coasting his hands down the front of Snape’s jacket, popping open the plethora of buttons. Snape seemed content to let Harry undo each one, his dark gaze drifting down Harry’s body, mapping it out. When Snape’s jacket came off a large, stained hand took one of Harry’s wrist and pinned it above his head.

“That’s plenty,” Snape said reaching down with his free hand to undo his pants. Harry didn’t question the odd choice, but used his own free hand to flick Snape’s suspenders off his shoulders. That earned him a warning glare, but Snape didn’t protest and left the suspenders to hang. 

Harry licked his lips excitedly when Snape’s cock made its appearance, but he couldn’t stop the twinge of fear that raced through him. He was about to lose his virginity and knew it would probably hurt. Luckily, Snape’s eyes were not on his, but instead looking straight down, at Harry’s own cock, which was considerably smaller than Snape’s. Harry would’ve felt insecure had he been given the time, but Snape’s sure hand wrapped around Harry’s burning need, and his whole world became Snape’s grip. 

Snape pumped Harry languidly. It was torture. Harry tried to thrust up but Snape folded Harry’s leg, knee to chest, immobilizing him. 

“Hold it there,” Snape ordered, squeezing the underside of Harry’s knee for emphasis. 

“Yes, sir,” Harry rasped, quickly replacing Snape’s hand with his own. Harry’s eyes found Snape’s, but he didn’t need to have his mind probed to beg. Snape, evidently, knew what Harry wanted to hear.

“Good boy,” Snape said with that uncharacteristic smile. Harry grinned. He was sure he looked stupid, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy. And he’d certainly never been _this_ happy, not this _kind_ of happy. 

Snape’s free hand stretched his fingers to Harry’s curved lips, teasing them apart. Those yellow tinged fingers were soft and exploring, like his tongue. They dipped into Harry’s mouth slowly. “Don’t swallow, I’m trying to get saliva,” Snape ordered. 

Harry couldn’t answer verbally, but nodded. After what felt like hours with Snape slowly pumping his weeping cock, he withdrew his dripping digits. Snape pressed them to Harry’s entrance and another eternity passed as his hole was gently massaged. 

“Snape,” Harry begged, spreading his legs further apart. He _needed_ release. He knew he could get it up again for Snape if he needed to, but his body was done being teased. He was too young to be on the edge for so long. 

“Such an impatient brat,” Snape said withdrawing his fingers and palming his own cock, lining up with Harry’s entrance. Harry didn’t know how Snape endured all this time without touching himself. Harry was about to, surely, die, but Snape appeared deceivingly calm. The sweat at his brow and the hardness at Harry’s entrance were the only indicators that he wasn’t as collected as usual. 

Snape released Harry’s soaked cock to grab his previously discarded wand. Harry knew Snape was skilled at nonverbal magic, but even Snape’s lips moved slightly as he casted a spell that made Harry’s insides slick. Snape then closed his eyes for a moment before nodding slightly. 

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked, recognizing the quirk. He felt several emotions at once and didn’t know which to latch on to. Was Snape about to back out? After coming this far? Surely not. Was he getting ready to push in? Harry needed reassurance. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Snape asked breathlessly. He opened his eyes and looked at Harry.

Harry, feeling frustrated, leaned up, bringing their eyes close. “Check for yourself,” he said, unblinking. 

Snape shook his head. His hair flowing over his shoulders to tickle at Harry’s cheeks. “Not all thoughts should be acted on, Potter. Only the ones we choose.” 

Harry took a shaky breath before tilting his head and closing the distance between them, kissing Snape’s trembling lips. “How’s that for a ‘choice’?” Harry asked, leaning back. Snape’s eyes narrowed with a determined look as he tucked his lower lip between his teeth. He pushed forward. 

Harry’s body immediately registered the invasion. He felt his whole face open up as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He’d never felt anything like this. His own fingers were the only things that had entered him, and they didn’t come close to pulling him apart, the way Snape was doing. 

“Breathe deep. Relax,” Snape whispered, continuing to push in, albeit, slowly. 

Harry wanted to say, ‘yes, sir,’ but he couldn’t find the voice to do so. He settled for doing what Snape instructed. His breath quivered so intensely that it sounded like he was chilled to the bone. 

“Focus, Potter,” Snape instructed. Harry had wanted to do some student/teacher role play, but it wasn’t going quite as he’d imagined. Who knew Snape had the biggest dick on the European continent? Or, at least, that’s what it felt like. 

Snape reached behind Harry’s head to grip the edge of the table before making one, quick push. Harry’s body jerked and a sound he was sure he couldn’t possibly make came from his lips. 

Snape’s head dipped to Harry’s ear. “You’ve got it all,” he said before kissing across Harry’s face to his other ear. “Good boy.” 

Harry shivered and his cock, which had not waned, jumped in anticipation of having attention again. Harry’s hands found and wrung at Snape’s shirt collar, pulling him down for another kiss. Snape stilled his lower half as he kissed back, pushing his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

When Snape did move Harry felt every motion. He released Snape’s collar and gripped the back of his greasy head, twisting the stringy, black hair between his fingers. It hurt, oh, God, it hurt, but there was something deep inside begging for Snape’s touch, and touch he did. 

Harry’s fingers had never reached so deep and Snape’s cock was in untouched territory, filling Harry with all new sensations. The pain at his entrance was ebbing while the deeper pleasure was streaming in. Snape’s cock would pull back smoothly, but slam forwards with a force that shook the table. Harry could feel it, the knot of pleasure building within. 

Snape moved his hand to the bottom of his dress shirt and pulled up, revealing his milky white belly. He then leaned across Harry, trapping his neglected erection between their bodies. Harry moaned in delight and rolled his hips to Snape’s rhythm. His orgasm, which was racing towards him before, was now crashing into him with a force he wasn’t sure he could recover from. 

Harry howled as the pressure released. One of his legs kicked out, knocking the groceries off the table, but Harry didn’t care. He was still riding the wave and so was Snape. 

Harry felt a sharpness at his neck and low growl tumbled through his ear. Snape’s hips slapped hard before pushing in as far as they could go, seeding Harry’s new found pleasure point. 

They stayed frozen for a few moments, like heaving statues. Snape moved first, lifting himself off of Harry and looking down at the floor. His groceries were scattered across the floor, some even rolled into the living room. Snape’s eyes cut to Harry.

“Bad boy.” 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Boy Who Lived and The Man Who Spied! Exclusive Photos! How long has this relationship been brewing? Were these the Potion Master’s private lessons?

Harry blanched. A moving photo of Snape kissing Harry against the refrigerator was below the Daily Prophet’s headline. He wasted no time getting dressed, grabbing his invisibility cloak, and making his way to Snape’s house. _This is definitely my fault_ , Harry thought. If he hadn’t pushed Snape then it wouldn’t have happened. What’s worse is that Harry knew they had been followed by journalists! But his horny teenage hormones ousted all logic. 

He wrapped himself up in the cloak as he neared the small, Cokeworth home. He usually hated his below average height, but since the cloak covered him completely, for once, he was gracious for his diminutive size. 

He tested the narrow path up to Snape’s home by sticking the tip of his shoe on the property. No adverse effects. He put his weight fully on the walkway, but took every step trepidatiously. One couldn’t underestimate the Prince. 

Once Harry knocked on the door he lifted the cloak to cover him from the back, but not the front. He stood too close to the door to be seen at any other angle than from the peephole. Within seconds the door flew open, a hand shot out to grab him by the shirt, reeling him in. Harry stumbled once inside but righted himself by leaning against the door. 

“I assume _this—_

Snape held up the morning’s Prophet.

“—is why you’re here?” Snape said slapping the Prophet against his palm. Harry moved his cloak off his shoulders. “Don’t do that! The windows are all blacked out, but there’s no telling what wretched tricks they will use!” Snape said reaching out and pulling the cloak back up, like Harry was some young girl showing a bit too much skin.

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “You alright?” He asked sheepishly. 

_Is that really the best I have?_ Harry thought. He didn’t think about what he would say once he got here.

Snape’s lips thinned for a moment before he spoke in a, surprisingly, calm voice. “I am known to the entire wizarding world as the man who shagged the most eligible bachelor in existence,” he said. “It’s you who has something to worry about.”

“Me?” Harry questioned. He was used to his privacy being compromised, though this was the first time it was so invasive. Harry still felt he could get over this much better than Snape could. 

“Yes, you!” Snape snapped. “The most eligible bachelor sleeping with—

Snape motioned to himself with the Prophet he was strangling so tight Harry was sure it would leak its ink. 

“You?” Harry offered when Snape didn’t finish. 

“Yes, me! Do you know what this will do to your reputation? You could’ve had any witch or wizard you wanted! Now they’ll know you—

Snape motioned the Prophet towards the kitchen.

“Had sex with you?”

“Yes!” Snape yelled throwing the Prophet down on a coffee table for emphasis. 

There was a long silence where Snape and Harry merely stared at each other. Snape’s face was red with anger and his posture stiff with stress. Snape was worried about him? All this rage was over Harry’s well being? 

Harry quickly dropped the cloak, not giving Snape time to catch it. “I don’t care about that. I came here because I was worried about _you_ ,” Harry said, taking a step towards Snape. 

Snape’s rigid posture pulled even more taut. Harry was sure the man was about to snap and Harry, himself, had to fight the urge to recoil as he continued to move forward.

“Why would you worry about me? I was once a Death Eater. My reputation is in the dirt already,” Snape said taking a step back. 

“Oh, really?” Harry smiled. “So, those girls didn’t want your autograph? They mistook you for some other ‘Severus Snape’?” Harry asked rhetorically with another step forward. Snape’s heel hit the paneled wall behind him as he tried to step further back. He settled on flattening himself against it. 

“The memory of good will fade, but the bad always lingers,” Snape replied, locking eyes with Harry. When he felt no force to get into his mind Harry pushed. He was invited in. 

Harry saw glimpses of Snape’s past. Cornelius Fudge talking to Dumbledore about Snape’s loyalties after Snape had suffered the cruciatus curse from Voldemort. All for the Order. He saw Snape taking the unbreakable vow with Narcissa Malfoy. All for Draco. He saw how Snape saw the world. People were talking about him behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear. They were accusing him of crimes Harry knew Snape didn’t commit. Harry, feeling disgusted at the sight, pulled out of Snape’s mind.

“It’s not like that anymore! You’re a hero now!” Harry declared, slapping his palm against the wall behind Snape. 

“It won’t last,” Snape sneered. Harry felt reminiscent watching Snape’s lips curl the way they did when he was in school. He would prefer they tremble in pleasure. 

“I’ll make sure your heroism lives.” Harry leaned closer.

“Planning on repeating the same mistake, Potter?” Snape’s voice dropped a register. Harry wasn’t sure if it was meant to sound sexy or threatening. It could’ve easily been both. 

“It wasn’t a mistake. It will never be a mistake.” Harry lowered his own voice. 

“And if I say ‘no’ this time?” Snape’s eyes flicked to Harry’s lips before meeting his eyes again. “If I don’t fall prey to your wiles?” 

“Then tell me ‘no’.” Harry took his hand off the wall and backed away. 

There was another silence between them, but they were still communicating. Harry felt the push of magic into his mind, he didn’t resist. In fact, he felt the magic reeling him out of his own mind and back into Snape’s. Harry found himself viewing his own desires through the lense of Snape. 

They were both using legilimency on each other. Harry could hear Snape’s thoughts as Snape watched Harry’s deepest desires play out. It was strange in that it was voyeuristic, but Harry, himself, was one of the people he was watching. Snape’s voice echoed around him though his lips remained still. 

This boy is serious. This boy is crazy. This boy...wants me? It wasn’t a one-time thing? Snape’s thoughts tumbled out unfiltered. 

Harry answered, but not with his voice. His thoughts also spilled out before he could even think them, or so Harry thought. I’m not crazy. I want you like crazy. Please don’t let it be a one-time thing! 

Harry stood next to Snape, who tore his eyes away from the fantasy playing before them only to be confronted with another. It felt similar to a pensive except the settings changed much more nebulously. Harry didn’t know what Snape’s body looked like so every image of Snape looked slightly different as his mind tried to fill in the gaps. 

“What’s your choice?” Harry asked, surprised his mouth had caught up with his thoughts. 

Harry wasn’t sure how they ended up kissing in Snape’s bedroom. Being connected at the mind was invigorating, but not good for tracking one’s body in the physical world. Harry’s face was locked to Snape’s one second, and then what felt like a punch to the back of his head severed their rooting connection. Harry reached out and grabbed the nearest thing, a bed poster, to keep himself from falling.

“What happened?” Harry said perplexed, using his other hand to grab the back of his head. He heard bed springs bounce and looked up to see Snape sitting on the bed, also palming his head.

“We were...too close,” Snape said through clenched teeth. Brandishing his wand, two phials with light green liquid appeared. Harry had seen this particular potion before. Hell, he’d actually brewed it not too long ago. Getting rid of headaches instantly was a must have for any wizard. 

Harry grabbed the one nearest and upended it into his mouth. The pounding pain at the back of his skull dissipated along with the phial once it was empty, which Harry didn’t expect. He stared stupidly at his hand as if he’d never seen magic before. 

“The containers go back to my store room once empty,” Snape explained, his voice now sounding at ease. Harry sat on the bed next to Snape and chuckled.

“Of course the Prince would think of something like that,” he said, reaching a hand out to brush Snape’s hair from his face. 

The massive headache was a mood killer, but Harry wasn’t going to let that dispirit him. He was still a horny teen, after all. “We both want to do this, don’t we?” Harry whispered, hoping Snape wasn’t trying to discourage himself again. Snape turned to Harry, his eyes bloodshot, but wanting.

“More than anything,” Snape answered. 

Harry reached down and took Snape’s hands, raising them to his lips he kissed them. “Me too,” Harry whispered. Snape reclaimed his hands and pushed Harry down, laying him flat across the bed. “I want you naked this time,” Harry requested, letting the joy he felt accompany his voice. 

“I stayed clothed and kept it in the kitchen before because I thought it was a one-time romp,” Snape explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he climbed over Harry. There was no wand this time. Snape worked on Harry’s clothes with his hands. As supple fingers peeled each item off a kiss was dropped to the newly exposed skin. 

Harry pulled at Snape’s layers, though his fingers were not as trained. He made sloppy work of the dress shirt buttons. 

“I best not have to buy new clothes after this, Potter,” Snape warned.

“A powerful wizard, such as yourself, can surely fix a button or two,” Harry said impishly. 

“You’re learning the art of flattery...Good boy,” Snape praised, discarding the last of Harry’s garments. 

That phrase, coming from Snape, played through Harry’s body like an instrument. _It’s like Pavlov’s bloody dog!_ Harry thought, watching the tip of his dick crown with clear liquid. 

Popping the last of the buttons through the buttonholes, Harry peeked through the opened placket. Starting at Snape’s chest and trailing downwards, like sand in an hourglass, was wiry, black hair. It disappeared beneath his pants where Harry was sure it pooled. The last button to taunt Harry, the pants button, gleamed. Harry’s brow furrowed as his fingers gripped the button harder than necessary.

“Still impatient as ever, I see,” Snape chuckled, but the undercurrent of nervousness grew. “I still have my suspenders up, boy. Where do you expect the pants to go?” 

Harry huffed impatiently. There was a small part of him that wanted to take his time, savor the experience, but the majority of him wanted Snape inside his body right then.

“I expect the suspenders to make this memorable,” Harry said as he finished wrestling Snape’s trousers opened. Harry placed his hand on the small part of Snape’s chest that was exposed and pushed. “Stand, please,” Harry asked. It certainly wasn’t an order. Snape’s heartbeat felt erratic beneath Harry’s hand, but he complied. 

Harry sat up on his knees in front of Snape and, simultaneously, pushed the shirt and suspenders off. The clothes gathered gloriously at Snape’s feet, revealing the man didn’t wear underpants. 

Harry's eyes drank in Snape’s war-torn body. Thin slices of scar tissue carved its way predominately down his left side. There was a large spot that looked like acid had fallen on his shoulder and dripped to his chest. The left nipple was slightly deformed from it. Harry’s hand reached out but Snape apprehended it. 

“Still? After seeing this body you still want to touch it?” Snape asked. “These are marks from dark magic,” the nervousness seeped even more through his voice, making him sound uncharacteristically timid. 

“I want to touch it even more now that you’ve chosen to show me,” Harry answered. Snape’s body was like a marred shield. A shield that had _protected_ Harry, _saved him_. Snape loosened his grip and Harry’s hand completed its journey. His fingertips lightly brushing the nipple there. “Does it hurt?”

“No, but it’s now more sensitive than the other one,” Snape answered watching Harry’s hand dance across his chest. Exploring fingers swept over the hair and tweaked at the nipples. Harry watched as Snape’s body responded. Nipples hardening and goosebumps appearing. _Something else was also hardening._

Harry circled his arms around Snape’s scared neck. Nagini’s fangs were the last things to leave a scar on this body and, Harry swore, another scar would never appear. He feathered kisses across the jagged skin before working his way up Snape’s chin to finally meet with eager lips. Snape was an enthusiastic kisser, which Harry enjoyed. He wanted Snape to take the lead. He wanted Snape to set the pace. _He wanted Snape._

Harry was slowly pushed back till he rested on the crisp, black duvet. He heard, rather than saw, Snape grab something off the nightstand. They continued to kiss as Harry felt his hole slathered with magically warmed lube. Harry broke their kiss. 

“Do you use that to masturbate too?” Harry gasped mischievously, glancing down at Snape’s bobbing cock. 

Snape cleared his throat. “Yes,” he answered simply, pressing his slick fingers to Harry’s entrance and pushing in. It stung slightly as it wasn’t completely healed, but Harry knew the pleasure that was to come, so he welcomed the pain. 

Harry gasped as more fingers were introduced. To take his mind off the mounting pain Harry reached down to palm Snape’s lengthening cock. Under Harry’s touch it grew even harder and precum leaked out to collect on Harry’s belly.

“Are you sure you want me to enter you again so soon?” Snape asked, withdrawing his fingers. The look in his eyes begging Harry to say—

“Yes.” Harry lifted his legs exposing himself completely. Snape looked relieved and anxious, which was fitting, as Harry felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time. 

Harry felt the head of Snape’s cock gently enter, but there was nothing gentle about the shaft slowly carving it’s way in. Harry gritted his teeth and dug his nails into Snape’s scarred shoulder.

“Do you want me to stop?” Snape struggled through gasps to ask. Harry shook his head, afraid his voice would betray him. He remembered how good it felt the first time and waited for the pleasure to sink into his being, the way Snape’s cock sank all the way into his body. “Good boy.”

The praise was a pulsing aphrodisiac through Harry, causing his hole to convulse. Snape must’ve felt it too as he hissed with pleasure. Harry pulled those sibilant lips down for another heated kiss. Teeth nibbled and tugged as tongues licked and prodded. Snape pressed his moist body flush to Harry’s, trapping the exposed cock between their bodies, much like before. Except in the kitchen he’d felt rushed and less intimate. Now, there were no clothes to act as a barrier and no thoughts of ‘one-time romps’. 

Snape pulled out, marginally, before pushing back in. Harry was surprised at the difference he felt. He no longer felt like he would fly apart, but an increasing pleasure being pushed inside of him, by Snape. 

Pleasure pushed into his whole being with thrusts of hips, kisses of lips, and strokes of hands. Snape’s arms squeezed around Harry’s narrow waist as he rammed more forcefully. Their slick bodies working in tandem on Harry’s trapped cock. Building pleasure higher and higher until his satisfaction toppled over.

Harry’s legs kicked out as he screamed, his orgasm demolishing any control he had over his body. What felt like a boiling warmth flooded between them. Snape did not slow down. He lifted Harry up into his lap and continued to thrust, maddingly. 

Harry, still riding a wave of bliss, saw his own cum decorated Snape’s belly, trailing all the way up to his chest hair. He pressed his hand into the tacky liquid and traced his hand upward, over Snape’s sensitive nipple, causing the man’s body to quake. Harry didn’t stop there, though. He rubbed his cum painted hand up the scar tissue at Snape’s neck and over his slightly stubbed chin. All while still being impaled rhythmically, Harry slipped two of his white coated fingers into Snape’s gaping mouth. 

Snape clamped down on those fingers, though not enough to break the skin. The arms around Harry’s waist cinched tighter as Snape’s thrusts stilled. A low, but loud, grunt tore through Snape’s body as he released his pleasure into Harry. 

After a short time Harry felt a languid tongue lap at the fingers still in Snape’s mouth. He watched in wonder as Snape took his hand and began to lick it clean. Harry took a mental snapshot. He never wanted to forget the moment. 

“Potter, you seem to make a mess,” Lick, lick, “every time you show yourself,” Snape said getting all the _mess_ off Harry’s hand. Harry looked down at Snape’s body, still covered in cum, and smiled.

“I guess I’ll have to clean up after myself,” Harry said pushing Snape down, the man’s cock finally exiting Harry’s still singing body. Snape chuckled. 

“I’ll have to give the Daily Prophet an exclusive interview,” he said, “I will tell them to title the article, ‘The _Good Boy_ Who Lived’.”

Harry looked up from Snape’s chest. “I hope you’re good for another round.”


End file.
